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Just as Zhou Tingyun understood Ming Zhao, she understood him just as well.
Ethics. Age.
Even if there was a one-in-ten-thousand chance that his feelings for her went beyond familial affection, he would never take that step.
His current indulgence was nothing more than a compromise—concessions made after her endless tantrums. If she were foolish enough to cross the line, he would only push her away and lecture her with a composed, steady voice:
“You’re too young to understand these feelings.”
She could already hear his tone—calm, unwavering, laced with helplessness. After all, considering her history of casual relationships and even entertaining the idea of a marriage alliance with Zhou Qian, how could he take her seriously?
“Then why do you still call him ‘Brother’?” Lin Zhiwei asked, propping her chin on her hand.
Indeed. If she wanted to break the boundaries, she should start by forgetting the roles they had played for so long.
The newly opened dessert shop had beautiful decor and played upbeat music.
In front of them, a delicate dish was set on the table—bright red maple leaves dusted with sugar, resting atop a bed of rich cream. The dessert exuded the mellow warmth of pine nuts and the crisp, refreshing scent of bergamot.
Ming Zhao didn’t answer; she simply smiled, her pupils gleaming with a knowing light.
Lin Zhiwei clicked her tongue and shook her head.
“You act like a fool, but you’re actually quite good at playing people,” she remarked.
Meanwhile, at Huayu Group.
A man sat in a dark, sharply tailored suit, his legs crossed casually, his fingers pressing lightly against his temple.
The faint blue shadows beneath his eyes hinted at exhaustion. Noticing his fatigue, his secretary hesitated before speaking.
“Sir, should we postpone the meeting?”
“No,” the man replied curtly.
The secretary lingered for a moment before nodding and stepping out.
Chen Zhou sat sprawled on the sofa.
“I know this feeling all too well—unfulfilled desires,” Chen Zhou said, taking a sip of tea. “I feel the same way when my wife’s away.”
Zhou Tingyun didn’t acknowledge the teasing, his brows furrowed as he continued to working through the towering stack of documents beside him.
Chen Zhou admired his work ethic but couldn’t resist pushing further.
“You’re going to work yourself into an early grave,” he remarked lazily. “And if that happens, your precious little sister will belong to someone else.”
Zhou Tingyun’s gaze lifted ever so slightly.
A chill ran down Chen Zhou’s spine. He immediately backtracked. “I’m just kidding, just kidding.”
This guy—his own death didn’t matter, but the moment his sister was mentioned, he reacted instantly.
“But honestly,” he said with a tsk, “so many people have their eyes on your sister.”
“Those old geezers are painstakingly selecting husbands, hoping to marry into a wealthy family, believing that their whole family will benefit from one person’s success,” Chen Zhou said, shaking his head. He thought they were incredibly stupid, believing they could gain from the Ming Family and Zhou Tingyun this way without considering that most brothers hate their brothers-in-law.
Especially someone like Zhou Tingyun—the ultimate little sister protector. Before even entering the house, the brother-in-law would likely have his legs broken and be sent to Southeast Asia.
Zhou Tingyun didn’t say anything. Ming Zhao was still childish; if she truly liked someone, he would carefully investigate the person’s family.
Chen Zhou suddenly remembered something and blurted out, “Or you could just marry her off, since it’s not like—”
“Chen Zhou,” the man’s voice deepened.
“Don’t make that kind of joke.”
Why not?
Meeting the man’s gaze, Chen Zhou swallowed his words.
Then he changed his approach.
“I’m just saying, aren’t you worried she’ll get back together with Gu He? I heard that kid learned some tricks somewhere; he’s quite good at sweet-talking people now.”
“Girls need to be pampered. I’ll remind you—don’t wait until she elopes and then starts to panic,” Chen Zhou said.
Zhou Tingyun didn’t respond.
Even though Ming Zhao had promised not to contact Gu He again and didn’t seem to care about him anymore, he couldn’t shake off the memory of her arguing with him over Gu He.
Her eyes had shone with an astonishing brightness, like an enraged little lion, using sharp words to defend what she considered her precious treasure.
But what treasure was it, really?
He had sold the gifts she had given him on a second-hand platform, transferring the money to that childhood friend of hers.
That kind of person…?
The man’s deep-set brows furrowed even more severely.
At that time, he had been too busy clearing out the Zhou Family’s influence to even notice that she was dating someone like that.
The embers of the cigar flickered as he pinched it between his fingers, the thin smoke obscuring his face.
Zhou Tingyun had never been in the habit of smoking—until Ming Zhao left without a word.
That day, he returned home with her favorite desserts, intending to apologize and tell her he shouldn’t have been harsh with her.
He had regretted it long ago; his precious little sister, held in his palms like a jewel—he had never raised his voice at her. She must have found it unbearable.
If she insisted on being with Gu He, then so be it; he would always be there to catch her when she fell.
But when Zhou Tingyun knocked on her door, all that greeted him was an empty, echoing silence.
Day after day, it went on.
There would no longer be the cheerful girl who would bounce out to greet him, clinging to his arm and pouting for him to put down his work and watch a movie with her; the one who would hide in her room crying after failing an exam, smearing her snot and tears all over him.
Over the course of four years, Zhou Tingyun found himself visiting countless counseling sessions.
Before establishing contact with the Zhou Family, he had no idea he was adopted. Those past years felt no different from those shared with biological siblings.
Yet, knowing his true background for less than two years, he found himself, on that humid, stifling night, experiencing feelings that should not have arisen while sitting in that office chair.
Even as he ordered her to break up with Gu He, the thought of keeping his little sister forever by his side emerged.
And it hadn’t faded with the passage of time or distance.
He was seriously ill.
Sometimes he would think—perhaps it was better this way; perhaps it was better if she never returned.
But the falling ash burned his fingertips, creating a hole in his heart.
—